Disclaimer: The following post, every word of which is true, contains imagery that some may find disturbing. Parental discretion is advised.
(Scene: Bus ride from Managua to Rivas, Nicaragua. Driver puts on DVD containing two hours worth of 1980s American rock ballads and other love songs.)
“God damn it," I cry. "First an hour of Jesus rock en español, now this shit.”
First video plays. Staring ahead, expressionless, I feel nothing.
Five minutes pass. Foot twitches. I put a stop to it.
REO Speedwagon plays. Foot is now tapping, uncontrollably. I can't fight this feeling anymore. Fuck.
Ten more minutes pass.
♬ “More than words is all you have to do to make it real. Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me. 'Cause I'd already know.” ♬
I'm now humming. I'm fucking humming. No, more than that that: I'm mouthing the words.
Phil Collins starts playing. *(Ed. note: Due to its graphic nature, this section has been removed.)*
An hour into the DVD, the worst is now behind us. Or is it?
“Hello,” a lone voice calls out, “is it me you're looking for?”
My eyes are tearing up now. “Ugh, these contacts,” I mutter under my breath. “Allergies.”
I reach my destination, full of shame and self-loathing. And Lionel Richie's voice.
(This post composed in a pink notebook with a broken heart and the word “feelings” on the cover.)
If I can take you at your word, that this is all true, I'd say it's time to go home.
ReplyDeleteGood lord, man. Disgusting. THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!!!11!!one!
ReplyDeleteMan, when did you suddenly become Charlie Bukowski?
ReplyDeleteOh Tarzie,
ReplyDeleteI lived in the U.S. for 26 years. I also make a four-digit salary so, uh ... no thanks.
JM,
Probably around the time I stopped getting paid to be a Respectable Liberal(ish) Blogger.
Maybe for a visit, then. Until the Lionel Richie thing is over.
ReplyDeleteLiving as an expat might merit a blog post, if you haven't already. I feel kind of trapped in the US myself.
Oh Tarzie,
ReplyDeleteI took a stab at it a few months ago -- http://charliedavis.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-dont-know-where-im-gonna-go.html
Since politics bores the hell out of me anymore, I'm working on a series of posts -- get excited! -- that I hope to publish over the next week or two.
I'll have you know that "Hello" was all the rage at junior high school dances in 1984.
ReplyDelete